


worthier (than you'll ever understand)

by Quillium



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Pre-Canon, heavy focus on ocs because i mean, iroh and zuko are the only canon charas on the Wani, so if that doesn't float your boat it's rad! but this might not be your fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26601811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillium/pseuds/Quillium
Summary: Zuko frowns. “I’m not very good at inspiring fear. Azula is better than me.”“Nephew,” Uncle’s voice is gentle, which makes Zuko’s stomach churn, “what part of trust and loyalty makes you think of fear?”OR: Ozai tells Zuko that he can return from his banishment once he’s become a more worthy heir than Azula, and it’s all he can do not to give up on the spot.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 136





	worthier (than you'll ever understand)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! School started for me and it's been real fun so far, I hope y'all are doing well. Remember, before you read: Are you hydrated? Well rested? Had solid food in the past three hours? If no to any of those questions, go do it before reading this! If yes, gold star for you and I hope you enjoy.

He can’t see out of his left eye. His ears are ringing, but he isn’t sure if that’s from the shock, or a leftover remnant from being burned. 

His father is standing in front of him, his father came to see Zuko in the infirmary even though Zuko is stupid and useless and Zuko has to prove that he’s worth his father’s time, so Zuko wobbles to his feet and bows as best as he can with his head aching and his body even more hopelessly uncoordinated than before.

_ Azula would have easily adapted _ , he thinks, swallowing down something bitter.

Well, Azula would never have been in this situation in the first place.

“Father, I--”

“I don’t want to see your face anymore.”

He doesn’t have much of a face left to be seen.

He doesn’t say that out loud. Father is always right, Zuko is the one in the wrong, it was his own fault and he shouldn’t complain about something like discipline. Father did it for Zuko’s sake.

“Yes, father.”

“Don’t call me that. You can show me your face again when you’re a more worthy heir than your sister.”

A more worthy heir than Azula?

_ That’s impossible-- _

“Thank you, father.”

So he--he stays away? Stays in a wing of the palace that’s separate from his father’s and study and work hard or--

His uncle comes and escorts him to a ship, hand on Zuko’s back like he might run away, whispering  _ it will be okay _ because--because even uncle, he supposes, knows that Zuko is useless and things are better when he’s not around--

No. Not locked away in a remote area of the castle.

That would be too generous, wouldn’t it? Too good for Zuko, who’s impertinent and useless and worse than useless tries to actively go against his father--

_ Banished _ .

That’s how badly Zuko’s hubris messed up. That’s how useless he is. It’s because he was arrogant enough to try to teach an elder when he’s ignorant about the world--

A worthier heir than Azula?

“Uncle,” Zuko bows as best he can and swallows the urge to rip off his stupid useless legs when they wobble a bit. “This one asks that you are benevolent enough to teach this one the art of fire.”

It’s overly formal. Overly polite. Exactly the kind of language a failure like Zuko needs to use.

There’s a hand on his head ( _ god his hair his hair-- _ ) and Zuko forces himself to stay very still ( _ if Uncle wants a repeat performance it’s because Zuko deserves it-- _ ) and his uncle says, voice as warm as it was before Ba Sing Se, before Lu Ten and his mom were gone, “No need to be so formal to family, Zuko. Of course I would love to teach my favourite nephew.”

Zuko feels dizzy with relief. He tries to test how respectfully his uncle wants to be treated and jokes, saying, “I’m your only nephew.”

Loud laughter, “But still my favourite. It just means you beat out all the competition.”

As though Zuko could ever be anything better than last. As though some part of Zuko were decent, worthy.

Words cannot express the love and gratefulness that swells in Zuko’s throat, that washes over his chest.

Zuko cannot see out of his left eye. His ears have stopped ringing.

Things aren’t okay. But they  _ will _ be. Because Zuko will work harder. Because Zuko will be better.

And, once he’s good enough, once he  _ deserves _ it like Azula, father will love him again.

__

He can’t bend.

He can’t--

He--

Zuko is a  _ firebender _ . He’s the crown prince, son of Ozai and Ursa, the--

No, Zuko forgets. He’s nothing, now.

But firebending--

How often has Zuko consoled himself, watching Azula, watching father smile at her, telling himself  _ at least you are a bender. At least you aren’t completely useless _ .

How often has his father looked at him and clicked his tongue against his teeth and how many times has Zuko told himself  _ it’s okay because you can bend, you can get better, if you work harder _ \--

And now he can’t even bend.

He can’t even make a  _ spark _ .

“The best ruler never has to fight,” his uncle tells him, “perhaps this is a gift in disguise.”

Hands shaking, head bowed, Zuko snaps, “I’m  _ useless _ , uncle, don’t give me platitudes,” and immediately hates himself for it because uncle was the only one who treated Zuko like he wasn’t worthless, the only one who was patient with him, because uncle hasn’t yet realized that Zuko was lucky to be  _ born _ \--

“They are not platitudes. You forget that I was once heir to the throne.”

“You aren’t on the throne, so clearly something went wrong.”

“I simply decided that I didn’t want it, nephew. But that doesn’t mean my lessons growing up suddenly went away--I still remember some things about what it means to be a good ruler. A worthy heir.”

And those are the words that get him.

_ A worthy heir _ .

Because that’s what he has to be. He has to be worthy. And once he’s worthy, his father will love him and bring him back and tell him that he knew Zuko could do it, that he’s just as good as Azula, that--

Zuko can do it, right? He was lucky to be born, he can be lucky once more.

He bows, makes the sign of the flame. “Please teach me.”

His uncle smiles and says, “Firelord Ruhan was a non-bender, however he was widely regarded as one of the greatest rulers in our history. Why is that?”

“Because he knew how to collect his allies.”

“That’s a good answer, nephew. And what made those allies so great?”

“They all had various strengths that were helpful to Ruhan. His right hand was not only a master firebender but also a master scholar who helped him to reform our trade system. His left hand was a brilliant diplomat who was able to forge strong bonds of peace with other nations.”

“Abilities can be learned with time and discipline. What made those allies so good was the mutual trust and loyalty shared between them and Ruhan.”

Zuko frowns. “But I’m not very good at inspiring fear. Azula is better than me.”

“Nephew,” Uncle’s voice is gentle, which makes Zuko’s stomach churn, “what part of trust and loyalty makes you think of fear?”

Was he wrong? But if he was wrong, why would uncle pretend to be gentle? Perhaps to make Zuko aware of just how stupid he was? “Father says that fear is enough to make people loyal.”

“Any loyalty not born of respect and trust is not true loyalty. Fear can inspire hatred over time--and a ruler who is hated will not last long on the throne.”

“Father is a good ruler!”

“I did not say otherwise, Prince Zuko.”

_ Crown Prince Zuko. _

The title never fit him much anyways. He doesn’t know why Uncle still calls him that--still speaks to him with respect.

Zuko never earned it, and now, now he doesn’t even have a title.

_ Banished, pathetic Zuko _ .

It suits him more. That’s what Azula would say.

(And maybe she’d be right, he thinks, because he  _ can’t _ \--)

“Prince Zuko, what makes you respect someone?”

(His father’s hand, reaching forward,  _ you will learn respect _ \--)

He respects his father, he--

He didn’t  _ mean _ to speak out against his father, he--

His ears ring.

He’s a good son. He respects his father. He is obedient and he will listen and whatever his father asks, Zuko will do, isn’t that respect, isn’t that--

Why does he respect his father? It’s his  _ father _ , it’s Zuko’s duty to be a filial son, and besides, his father is amazing because--

Because--

“I don’t know,” Zuko whispers.

His uncle pats Zuko’s head, smiles, and says, “That is not something that can be taught so easily with words, nephew. But from now on, be conscious of who is given respect in this crew--and why.”

Zuko bristles, “I am the highest ranking here, I’m in charge of the ship--”

“Respect is not only given to leaders, Zuko. It is also given to friends, coworkers, oneself--sometimes even one’s foes, if they are worthy adversaries. I do not ask that you search for obedience--I ask that you search for respect.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Seek, and you shall find.”

“I don’t understand those proverbs, uncle. Can’t you just tell me?”

“A good ruler also knows how to learn from observing others. Think of it as a challenge--a way of learning without being straightforwardly taught. If a ruler depended on their subordinates to tell them everything, they are not a ruler but a puppet.”

That… makes sense.

Maybe--maybe this is why his father banished him, maybe he wanted Zuko to learn from observing his people, rather than books, maybe--

He can do this. 

“I’ll do it.” Despite the frustration and confusion that floods his chest, Zuko bows, makes the sign of the flame, and says, “Thank you for teaching me, uncle.”

There’s a warm hand on his head, and softly, “I know that you can do this, Prince Zuko.”

Such confidence in a failure of a prince. Still, sometime warm, determined, sparks in Zuko’s chest.

He can do this.

He’ll make uncle proud--and eventually, his father as well.

__

The prince is  _ staring _ .

Ziyi is trying to eat her food and the prince. Won’t. Stop.  _ Staring _ .

He’s been doing it for a few days now--and it’s not just Ziyi. Every other crew member that she’s talked to has talked about the prince just staring at them like a hawk. It’s  _ creepy _ . It shouldn’t be creepy on a thirteen-year-old but the prince is like an owl and  _ won’t. Blink _ .

“Is he still looking?” Feng mumbles around some rice cake.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Ziyi hisses. “He was staring when I was reading on my off time yesterday, too. I thought he was going to march over any moment to tell me that I wasn’t allowed to read and had to get back to work.”

Feng cackles. “He yells a lot but he isn’t a tyrant yet.”

“ _ Yet _ ,” Ziyi agrees, gloomily. “Give him time.”

“Cheer up. We have General Iroh with us--he’ll steer him right.”

Ziyi knows that Feng was one of the ones who was loyal to General Iroh, and that she came onto the ship to follow him. She can’t understand that sort of loyalty at all, but supposes she must respect Feng for it, all the same.

“I won’t hold my breath,” Ziyi says, “but it’s nice to have that hope.”

A clatter of a tray against the table, and Ziyi glares at the plate that’s mostly salmon. “Have you ever heard of vegetables, Riyang?”

“Can’t say I have,” Riyang says breezily, sticking his chopsticks into  _ Ziyi’s _ mashed potato. “Mind if I have some?”

“Give me some salmon.”

“This is extortion.”

“It’s called a transaction, you never learned accounting?”

“Math,  _ disgusting _ .”

Ziyi rolls her eyes and takes a sizeable amount of Riyang’s salmon, then, after some deliberation, replaces the empty space with some of her broccoli. Because she’s  _ generous _ .

“Why do you do this to me,” Riyang moans.

“You need vegetables.”

“Disgusting.”

Feng laughs. “Ziyi says the baby prince is still watching us.”

“Hasn’t it been a few days already? We can’t be  _ that _ interesting.”

Feng punches Riyang’s arm. “Speak for yourself.  _ You _ may be a boring toad-frog but I’m incredible.”

“Toad-frogs are adorable though?”

Feng rolls her eyes so far back into her head that her pupils vanish.

Ziyi covers her mouth to hide her laughter.

Riyang glances at the prince. “I mean, why don’t we just ask him?”

“Because he’s the  _ prince _ .”

“I mean, he’s been staring at us for days, I think that we can ask him why.”

“Do you value your neck?”

Riyang squints at Feng, and asks, “How did you break into the palace when you were so chicken-toad?”

“Okay, first of all, I was  _ drunk _ , second of all, it was to get books for Ziyi--”

“Hey, prince!” Riyang stands up and waves.

Feng buries her face in her hands. “This is what I get for breaking into the palace. This is karma. Divine punishment. Agni thought smiting me was too merciful--”

Ziyi pats Feng on the back. “Cheer up, he doesn’t look like he wants to murder us.”

“He’s thirteen. All thirteen year olds think about is murder.”

“Um, I didn’t?”

“Because you’re a  _ nerd _ .”

“I resent that.”

“Oh god he’s walking over.”

“Hello,” and there he is, Prince Zuko, in the flesh, frowning at them. “What happened?”

Riyang, stupid fucking Riyang who called Fire Lord Ozai an old man  _ to his face _ and got banished for it, beams and asks, “Why were you staring at us?”

Stiffly, Prince Zuko says, “I was observing you,” as though that isn’t the creepiest thing in the world.

“Are we that interesting?” Riyang is  _ still smiling _ .

Feng looks like she wants the ground to swallow her.

Prince Zuko tilts his head to the side, a crease forming in his brow. “I suppose you likely are. I’m trying to understand you.”

Feng is giving Ziyi that panicked look that she does when she’s trying to communicate through facial expressions but Ziyi, as always, does not understand what she’s trying to convey.

“What about us is confusing you?”

Riyang, please, shut up. Ziyi does not want to get beheaded.

“The respect you hold for each other, I suppose.” Oh lord. The prince is being serious? The baby prince is being serious and not murdery? He’s being earnest?

Is the world coming to an end?

“Oh, that’s easy!” Riyang brightens. Ziyi is trying to understand what’s going on. “I love them both, Ziyi loves me but pretends to hate me, Feng respects me but won’t act like it, and Feng loves and respects Ziyi and Ziyi loves Feng but is also her mother.”

“I wasn’t aware that Ziyi was Feng’s mother.”

“Um, no, she’s not.”

“But you just said--”

“I mean, like, she’s the mom friend. That’s all.”

“...mom friend?”

Is the baby prince. Confused. About what a mom friend is.

Riyang starts to explain.

The baby prince nods along, earnest, asking questions like this is school or something equally serious.

Ziyi gives up on trying to understand, and finishes her food.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to work on this!!! I don't know if I'll be able to update that often because of schoolwork but I really had fun with this--I haven't written a fic like this since... man, since like 2014? 2015? So I'm excited. I hope y'all are excited, too! If you didn't listen to me in the first author's note, please take this time to get your sleep, water, food, whatever you need before exiting this page. Love you.
> 
> OC Guide:  
> Ziyi - bookworm, not good with people, probably got banished for dealing with forbidden/illegal books  
> Feng - anxious, dying at her stupid friends, reckless, got banished for stealing forbidden books from the Fire Lord's private library  
> Riyang - cheerful, Cannot Read the Room, good at socializing, doesn't like veggies, basically a college student
> 
> I know that it's unlikely that the crew's actually filled with banished people and they're probably just normal soldiers in canon but hear me out: I thought it would be real fun to write someone who got drunk and then broke into the palace to steal a book for her friend then got banished for it.


End file.
